


Where the Red Bird Sings

by marilynthedork



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emeto mentioned, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, generous and probably overuse of the zalgo text generator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marilynthedork/pseuds/marilynthedork
Summary: Taako doesn't know much about how he ended up here. From what the nice, mysterious lady told him, he was in a bad storm that may have resulted in some serious memory loss. He has a wagon though, so he sets off on the road to find the nearest town.=Refuge doesn't get many visitors. It's on the outskirts on Faerun, in the Woven Gulch. The diamond mines, the only reason people would have come before, have dried up. So, when a stranger rolls into town in a fancy wagon with no idea where he is or how he got here, Ren and the town take him under their care.(Previously titled "Lean on Me")





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be another long one, folks. I know, that stinks, because there are other long fics I should be working on. However, I think you'll like this one.
> 
> Huge huge *huge* shout out to notcrindy, author of Bad Luck and Apprentice. They were a big inspiration for this fic, because it's almost the sweet and fluffy counterpart to Apprentice, which you should totally read! Anyway, enjoy!

Someone is gently shaking him, their voice pulling him out of his trance, “Taako,  _ Taako _ … it’s time to wake up.”

 

He groans and shuts his eyes tighter. He doesn’t want to wake up, not when everything feels so fuzzy. “Nnn, five more minutes…”

 

“If you’re going to make it to your next show in time, you need to wake up, now,” the voice explains.

 

“...Show?” Taako asks, opening his eyes finally. The person waking him up is a young woman, dark-skinned with warm brown eyes. He decides he likes her, though he’s not sure why.

 

“Of course, you’re  _ Taako,  _ from  _ Sizzle it Up!  _ only the most  _ popular _ Travelling Venue show!” the woman beams, “You were already delayed enough by the storm, you can’t waste another minute lying around.”

 

“The storm?” he thinks back to the last thing he remembers. Oh, of course,  _ the _ storm. The giant storm that blanketed the sky in unsettling charcoal clouds and made the world seem gray, almost like the color was draining out of it. He͠ ͏w̛ąs o̧n h͠i̵s w̢ay̸ to ͜th͢e ͘sh̷i̡p ̕wi͡t̷h s̶͜o͘͘҉m̶͞e̴̡b̧o̴͢d̡y͟ įm͝p̨o͘͘͠r͜t͢͡a̡͜n̷͢t͟͢ ̷w̵h̕e̡n̨ t̕h̨e ̧clo͞u͟ds f̛i͡rst r̸o̧lled̡ i͟n͘.̵ Then-

 

His brain clouds over. Suddenly, he can’t remember what he was thinking about before. “I think I musta… hit my head in that storm, huh?”

 

“That’s the theory, yes. We’re lucky we found you when we did and could nurse you back to health. Who knows what would have happened if we hadn’t...”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Taako closes his eyes for a minute, trying to push through the thick fog forming around almost every thought. “ _ Shit _ , do I need to like, pay you? I don’t know if I have any cash on me, but I’m sure-”

 

“No, no, that would be necessary,” the lady quickly assures him. Almost too quickly, but Taako doesn’t have enough time to parse through that before she continues, “Just knowing that I could help  _ the Taako  _ in any way is payment enough.”

 

“Oh, cool,” Taako nods, sitting up slowly, finally ready to move, “Well, if I see you at any of my shows, don’t be surprised if you get called on the stage. I mean,  _ act  _ surprised, just- nevermind, you get it.”

 

“ _ Thank you _ , Taako,” she gasps, sublty backing towards the door at the rear of the room, “It would be an  _ honor  _ to be part of your show. Listen, uh, I really must be on my way; I have my own errands to attend to. But it was wonderful meeting you! You really are as great as everyone says you are!”

 

“Hey, you’re pretty neat yourself, miss…” he pauses, thoughts fogging up again. “Hey, uh, sorry, this is hella embarrassing, but... but I don’t remember your name?”

 

The door clicks softly, and the mysterious stranger is gone. Rude, leaving without an answer like that.

 

Wḩo le͠ft ͏wit̴ho͜ut͘ ̕an͝ ҉a̢ns̨wer?͝ He can’t remember, so it must not be that important.

 

He really needs to get ready now, he realizes; he’s burning daylight just sitting here getting lost in his own thoughts. However, to get ready, he needs to figure out where exactly he  _ is.  _ It looks like he’s in some kind of tiny, narrow apartment, or possibly a dorm? It has the bed he had just been sleeping on, and across from it, a dresser. A few steps away is a table that looks like it could fold against the wall, and a bench. Opposite of that is a tiny kitchenette: a basin, shelves with various dry goods, and a cabinet.  _ “It‘s kinda pathetic,”  _ he thinks,  _ “what kind of kitchen doesn’t have a ş̸t͏o̡̢͟v҉͜e-” _

 

The fuzz is back, creeping to the edges of his vision and making everything tilt slightly. Damn, whatever happened in The Storm must have seriously screwed his brain. 

 

He tries not to think about the holes in his memory, but when he tries not to focus on it, that’s all he can do. How there’s a giant gap between getting in ţ͢h̵̡͟͡ę͢͝ ͜͏̨̕s͢͞h̷̕i҉̛̕͘p̴̕̕͜ and now. What shi̛p̢ ̵wa͘s it? Wḩere was̡ ̛įt̨ go͞ing̸?͞ Why̴ w͟a̷s ͝h̴e͞ ͡eve̢n ̛get͘t͢i̴n̡g̡ on i̢t͡? W̛͏h̵͝o҉̧ ͏w̡͝a̧s̷̨̕ h̸̷e͠͞ ̨g͘oi̕ng̨̢ w̨i̸̢th?

 

Everything before The Storm is hazy, too The memories dance and blur and mix together in dizzying configurations. Grandpa Tostada’s farm merges with one of the caravans he rode on for a brief time. There’s a temple that’s now superimposed onto his mother and father’s house. Even Aunt Tia, the one family member who didn’t kick t̨̨͞h̷̕e͡m̡ out, isn’t safe. All of these memories have thick patches of this mental fog over them. H̛͝e w̸a͟͠s ͏̴a̕͞t̵ a͏̡ll ̛͞o͞f̛͠ ̢̢͘t̸͝hose͟ ̷p̵͡l͜͠͏a̧ces̷̢ w̴͞i̵t̶h͏ ͡s͢o̢m̨e͏͏̶b̵̛͘od͡y̛.͡ W̧h͢͏o̧ ̧̕w̛ą͝s ͘͡it̛? ͜͢W̴h͞y̴̢ ą̶r͞҉͜e͡͏ ̢͘͟t҉̢h͏̛ey ͞so͢͡ ͡͝im҉͏p̶͜o̶rt͝ą̡͟n͘t. ̡͘͡Why͏̡ ̴̢̕c̴͠a̷̢͟n͟’̛t̡͠ ̧ḩ̨e re̵m̨̛emb̨ę̡r͞?̨

 

His stomach churns because  _ he can’t remember.  _ He’s lost out here, drifting into this… this  _ fog,  _ with his immediate surroundings acting as a light, bouncing uselessly off of a wall of things he doesn’t understand.

 

He bolts out the door the t̵he̸ ͢w͏o͞m͏a͞n left out of (panic almost seizing him in place because he’s forgetting stuff that _just_ happened _,_ assuming it even happened and it wasn’t just a hallucination) and dry heaves, bending in half before falling on his knees. He stays curled up on himself for a minute, grabbing chunks of grass and dirt with his fists. He’s praying for the gagging to stop, or to just barf and get it over with. Eventually, the nausea ebbs away, and he’s left shaken and sweaty.

 

Once he’s confident he can stand again (why was his stomach upset, anyway?), he rises carefully and turns around. He uses what little bit of mental clarity he has left to deduce that the wagon he’s looking at is his. 

 

The frame is unlike anything Taako can remember seeing before in his life. Instead of the covered wagons Taako often travelled in when he was bouncing between caravans, the front, back, and left sides are built up into solid, wooden walls. Only the right wall is canvas, and though it’s only stretched over one piece of framing, it looks to be a solid board. Taako walks closer, and notices two poles strapped to the side of the yankee bed. 

 

Something else he didn’t notice from a distance is the fact that the canvas is permanently secured at the top. The bottom is tied to the frame with only two straps of leather. Out of curiosity, Taako unties the canvas and takes down the poles. Sure enough, the polls are whittled at one end so they can fit into the holes at the corners of the canvas without sliding all the way to the ground. After setting up his new canopy, carefully driving the poles into the ground, he turns around to admire his handiwork.

 

He takes in the two large windows created by the frame in the middle, the canopy, and the smaller canvas that has “Sizzle it Up! with Taako” painted on it in scrawling, curling pink letters. He grins. This is the wagon for his Travelling Venue! The travelling show he spent  _ decades _ planning and saving up for. He had scraped together money from odd jobs and gone without decent meals for this wagon. This wagon was the representation of blood, sweat,  _ tears _ . How could he forget about it? He was thankful it wasn’t damaged in The Storm that apparently damaged his dome.

 

He takes down the canopy and straps everything back down securely. You couldn’t travel for long with a loose canvas, after all; every good roadie knew that. He also inspects the four wheels and finds no damage. His mule, lazily chewing a mouthful of grass, also looks healthy and well-fed. He pats her back warmly, “We’ll be heading out soon, girl. Just gotta change into some different digs and lock up.”

 

Within fifteen minutes (he would have been ready faster if he had remembered where anything was) he’s changed into more appropriate clothes for driving his wagon and sitting on the driver’s seat, reigns in hand. With a firm slap of the reigns and a loud command, they’re on the road to the next town.

 

If only he could remember where he had been heading.


	2. Chapter 2

They had been following the road silently for about an hour before Taako cracked and started talking, “Taako’s gonna be honest with ya, girl, this is pretty, uh, surreal for me right now. Now, this probably sounds crazy, but… I don’t know how long I’ve had ya. I can’t remember buying you, or the wagon. I don’t remember shit right now, honestly, and it’s wigging me out.”

 

The mule’s ears twitch slightly at the sound of his voice, but there was no acknowledgement of what he was saying otherwise. She, and the wagon, plodded on steadily.

 

“Like, I feel like I’m not usually the kinda fella that talks to asses like they’ll understand me, but that’s who I am today. I’m Taako, and I talk to animals like a complete nutcase.”

 

Silence, except for the steady sound of hooves on dirt.

“Do you have a name, girl?” Taako asks, “If you had one, I sure as shit don’t remember it. So, I should  _ probably _ come up with one for ya, huh?”

 

The mule continues on, unaffected.

 

“Hey, tell me if I’m getting close to something good here, okay? Now, the sign on the wagon says  _ ‘Sizzle it Up!’  _ with me, so obviously I’m running some kinda travelling... cooking show… thingie. So it makes sense to name you after a food or whatever. No fruits or veggies,  _ obvs _ , because you eat that stuff. That leaves… pasta? Meats? Breads? All of those sound dumb, scrap ‘em. Maybe dessert? Ooo, desserts are always fun! Cupcake, Carrot Cake- no, that’s a vegetable, nevermind- Cheesecake, Chocolate Cake, Red Velvet Cake, cake cake  _ cake _ . Rum Cake- oh! Drinks! I think a drink name would be better. What do you think?”

 

She swishes her tail.

 

“Hmmm, so many options… the beers are out, natch. Maybe a wine? Red, or White? Red kinda sounds nice. Oh, actually, maybe cocktails would be better? If all else fails I’ll just call you Cocktail. It’s got cock right in the name,” Taako snorts at his own observation. “Okay, good to know I  _ will _ laugh at a dick joke. Was that even a  _ joke _ ? I apologize, girl, I’m clearly… yeah, that was bad.”

 

As expected, Taako got no response.

 

“Anyway, where was I? Right, cocktails: Cosmopolitan, Daiquiri, Pina Colada, Margarita- Rita! That’s perfect!”

 

Rita’s ears flick back at the sudden exclamation, and Taako swears she speeds up just a hair.

 

“Damn, I must be pretty good at this ‘naming shit’ thing. Between you and  _ Sizzle it Up _ , I’m at least two for two. I wonder what other stuff I’ve named? I feel like there was something else important I helped…”

 

The fog appears at the edges of his memory, so Taako moves away from that train of thought. “I’m making a rule, Rita: until further notice, if something causes me to get all foggy and shit, I’m not gonna think about it. I need to stay alert when we’re travelling, especially since I have no clue where the hell we are.”

 

Rita brays.

 

“Hey, I’m not proud to admit how lost I am, but I’m just standing in my truth here. If I started lying to myself, who knows how that’d affect the whole memory thing I got goin’ on here? It’d probably jack me up even worse.”

 

“Maybe I should try to figure out what I do know? Okay, here’s my list so far- my name is Taako, and I am an elf. A young adult elf. I have a wagon and a mule named Rita. I-I…”

 

Taako looks up at the sky, and his gut twists into a pretty knot. Som̸eth͟in͘g i̵s ͘wr̴o̧n҉g͠ ̶with̴ th̨e ̡sk͘y̡, but he doesn’t know what, which is  _ completely _ stupid.There aren’t even clouds in the sky, just an uņb̕roke͠n͝ ex͝p͘a҉n͞se ͠of ̢b͠lu͘e with one̴ ̛g͟lo͠w̧ing͟ ye̴llơw o͞rb ov̧er͘h͟ead.̵

 

“The sky is blue, and I’m probably the world’s  _ stupidest _ fucking elf alive.”

 

=

 

Travelling alone is incredibly boring, Taako decides.

 

Sure, the giant rock formations are cool to look at, but only for the first five minutes. After that, it’s pretty samey, and the desert landscape surrounding the rocks and his little wagon for miles, with no end in sight, isn’t envocking his imagination much either. Since he has no one talk to but Rita, who isn’t much of a conversationalist, he’s pretty bored.

 

They stopped for water and lunch a few hours ago, and Taako wants to stop again to give Rita a break, but the rocks are too far away from the meager trail to rest under them for shade. So the wagon crawls forward, and the sun starts crawling from its zenith to the horizon, and Taako’s skin crawls with the humidity and sweat. He scans the landscape one more time, and after seeing no immediate threats, he ducks back into his wagon to change into something lighter.

 

Now that he remembers where he put all his shit, he easily navigates to the dresser and pulls out a skirt and a tank top. He changes out of his current outfit (simple pants and leather tunic) and immediately feels the difference in air flow, especially on his thighs. He grabs the tacky, floppy wizard-ass looking hat off of the shelf over his bunk and puts it on as well. The purple fabric and hot pink ribbon may totally clash with the orange tank top and navy blue skirt, but the brim is wide enough to keep the sun out of his eyes, so who really cares?

 

He sits back down on the tongue of the wagon, the sun less glaring now with his hat, and takes up the reigns. Just in time, it seems, because they’re starting to go down an incline. For now, the descent is gentle enough to keep the wagon from running over Rita, but Taako is prepared to pull the hand lever to slow them down. He has no clue how much he paid for this wagon, or Rita, so he’s not about to let either of them go careening down a hill and getting smashed to pieces. 

 

Also, if he died going down this ramp, it would particularly suck. He’s not exactly sure  _ why _ , because everything’s been pretty suck-y for him as of late, but dying here and now seems like it would  _ really _ blow. Maybe it’s because he managed to survive a huge storm pretty much intact, so kicking it after  _ that _ would bite. Regardless, he’s gonna try not to, for his own sake, and Rita’s.

 

Thankfully, the incline is easy enough that they can descend without much issue. The ground seems to rise above them, cutting off the sun and providing some much needed shade. A few scraggly bushes cling to the cliff, their bare roots exposed. Taako briefly wonders how they’re surviving with seemingly little water in the harsh sun, but it’s not important enough to occupy his thoughts for long. After a few minutes, the ground levels out into a shallow riverbed. They pull up, and Taako unhitches Rita and leads her to the stream to drink. As he’s splashing water on his dust-caked face, he notices a wooden sign:

 

Welcome to

the Woven Gulch

Refuge: 50 mi ^

 

“We could use some refuge for the night, huh girl?” Taako asks jokingly. Rita snorts and shakes her head, splashing him with little droplets of water. “Don’t worry, it should be cooler from here on out.”

 

He’s right; the temperature for the rest of trip is much cooler, thanks to the lower elevation and shade. However, the new challenge is the riverbed itself. Even though the river seems to be in a drought, the banks are muddy. Taako spends the majority of the fifty miles on foot, carefully weaving Rita and the wagon back and forth across the shallows to whichever side is wider. He tries his damnedest not to get bogged down, but they inevitably have to stop a few times to scrape thick, red clay off the wheels and push the wagon out of the ruts it made. 

 

Taako wishes he wasn’t alone out here. If he only had s̨ơm͏̵e̸b͢od̕͡y͞͝ helping him, ţ̛h̸͘e̵͝y could help him push or hold onto Rita or  _ something.  _ Maybe he’ll hire a road hand in the next town, assuming he has any money.

 

By the time he gets the wagon unstuck for the third time that evening, the sun has set and the stars are beginning to playfully twinkle in the portion of the sky he can see. Even though his night vision allows him to see with no problems, the same isn’t true for Rita. Besides, travelling at night in a unfamiliar region, where bandits could be lurking, is probably the dumbest thing you can do on the road. Even in his current state, he remembers learning that early on in his caravan-hopping career. So, he parks the wagon in the nearest dry section of the canyon’s bed, and begins setting up camp for the night.

 

He’s finds a bundle of kindling and a flint and steel in the tack box. He’s grateful, since the desert doesn’t offer much in the way of fire starters. He also finds a feed bag of grain for Rita.

 

“I know it’s not oats,” Taako apologizes as he straps the bag to her muzzle, petting the spot between her eyes, “But it’s what we got. I’ll try to buy you some when we get to that refuge.”

 

Next, he grabs his own dinner, which consists of some jerky and dried fruit, and starts building his fire. Sure, the meal might be kinda… dry, but the river is a godsend. He doesn’t strictly  _ need _ the fire, he supposes, but the warmth and light are nice, and he’s planning on rinsing off as much as he possibly can in the stream.

 

After lighting the kindling, a quick splash-off, and redressing in new, un-dusty clothes, he sits down in the glow of the fire and starts to eat, chewing on his jerky thoughtfully. There’s something about this moment that feels… right. He watches the flames dance, transfixed, then he looks up at the tear-out of sky he can see between the canyon walls. Th̛i͘s̨ i͜s̷ comfor͠ta͟b͢le͜; i͞t'̡s͠ f̧a͞m͞i̢li̶a͝ŗ;͘ ͘th͠҉is̸̸ ̢i͘s̢ ̵̨j͘͟u̶͘s̢̨҉ţ ̴̨͞l̛ik̷҉e͟͝ ̶̢h͏͘͢i̢s͜ h͘҉o̷me̕͢ ͞f͜҉̧o̵r͝ ̨ą̕ ͏c̴̶e͟nt͠u̶̧͠ry. W̢i̛͟t͠h҉ h͞i̴̴͘s͢͝ ͝͏c̶ŗe͞w, ͢o͘҉̨ņ ̶t̶h̸͝ȩ͡͝ ̡̛͞d҉ec̴͘k̛͠ ҉o͘͜f̶̧ ̛͘t̡h͟e ҉s͜h̷̨i͢͠p,̴͝ ̧͏u͝nd̕e̸r ̵t̡h̸e̸͠ ̧̛s̡͟t͝a̶̸r̛͠s̢,̷ ̧̨wa̶rm͟͢ ̸̶a̧n̢͢͞d̢ ͟͡c̨͞om̛̕͜f͡or̴҉͢ta̶̢͢b͞l̢e͘͟͞ ̨n̶͘͟o̵̕t҉҉͏̶̢ ̛҉w̡͝ǫ͏͢r̴̸r̴̴͟͜y҉̷̢̧i͝n̛g̡͘͢҉ ̴̧͢͡ą͞b̧̧͝o̷̕u̷̵̡͜t͟͢͝ ̶̸̴̶̧t̨̕͢͜͝h̵͜͏̡ȩ̵ ̴̴̴̛H̵̨͝u̷n͢͝-̸͜҉

 

He spits out the bite of food in his mouth, bile rising in his throat. It passes as quickly as it came on, and he doesn’t even remember why he spit it out. Perfectly good waste right there.

 

He finishes his ‘dinner,’ puts out the fire, and climbs into the wagon after saying goodnight to Rita. He falls asleep almost as soon as he lays down, his dreams floating on a sea of fog.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick warning: there's a scene of drowning in black sludge at the beginning. you can basically skip to the super messed up text part to avoid it.

Taako is running, gripping someone’s hand for dear life, as The Storm closes in behind them. He sees t͡he҉ ̶c̡a̵p̧t͏ain̡, the͏ ̴d̨oc̷t͝or͡,̸ ̛t͢h͠e sc̴i͡ent͞i͘s͠t, ̛and th̴e̴ re͢c̨ord ̴ke҉e̷pe͏r all running ahead of him. Th̵eir ̷b͢ody͢gu͝a͜r̵d is close behind, urging them to run just a little bit faster; if they can _ just _ make it to their ship and out of here, they’ll be safe. What he doesn’t seem to realize is that he’s tired. They’re all tired. They’ve been running from this storm for so long, Taako can’t remember when they started, and he certainly doesn't see an end to this eternal flight anytime soon.

 

He sees a tendril in his peripheral vision, so dark that it’s absorbing the light from around it. The colors inside, red and blue and green and yellow, swirl sickeningly. He sees two more tendrils on his other side, identical to the first. He pushes himself to run faster, but the ink is oozing around his ankles, tripping him and slowing him to a crawl. He feels his crewmate let go of his hand. He turns around, watching in horror as the tendrils lift them up and consume them. The mass is briefly engulfed in flames, his crewmate refusing to go without some fight. But the oil recovers, and it’s still hungry.

 

He lets it pool around him. It creeps up his legs and around his waist, soaking into his clothes and his skin. It begins to crush his chest, making him gasp for breath. Then it invades his mouth, his throat, his lungs; he’s filled up with this darkness, until even his mind, his heart, his  _ soul _ are filled. There’s nothing left of him. Who cares if he dies here? His crewmate, who was his  _ only family _ , is gone. Ther̵e͡’s ҉n̡oth̷ing l͞e͡ft͏ o͡f ͝t͏hem. T҉͝h͟͝e̷r͝e’̧͘͜s̸͝ n̷̕͝o͏t̨͟h̵̶͢i̶n͟g̕͠ ̷̵l̷e҉f͏͝t͟ ͝͝͝o̷f̸̷͢ ̢any̡̡t̴͟h̢įn҉̴͞g̴̷. 

 

�̷̶͚̥͎̞̳͚̩̘̺̬̩̰̺̮͓̝ͬ̓ͬ͌̕ͅͅͅ�̵͖̭̬̙̟̬̤̟̹̰͎͇̠͕͕̎ͣͮ̈́͂͛̿̋̿͌̐͒ͬ̾ͤ̅͗̔͊͠�ͫ͐͆͒͒̐͂ͮ͠҉̪̺̲̖̪͎̠̕�̶̨̓̄ͨͥ̌̽̀̊ͪ̄̃̓͜͞͏̟̳̱̤̳̥̟͕̭̱͚̻͔̙�̢̡͇͓͖̯̤̲̬̪̪͎̳͙̦̻̟̺̝̣ͭ̔̔̃͋ͭ͂ͮ̌ͧ̔͆ͅ

 

Taako wakes up and lets out a broken, painful sob. Everything feels hot and sticky and  _ wrong _ . He knows he had a nightmare, and he knows it was just a dream because he’s here, in his bed, safe. But it felt  _ so  _ real, like it was really happening. He sits up, then stands up, still shaken, and goes outside for a breath of fresh air and some water.

 

The most unsettling part is that he can’t remember the dream at all.

 

=

 

Paloma pulls a fresh batch of blueberry scones out of her oven. As she sets them down on her cooling rack, one of the crystals hanging from the ceiling falls and shatters on the floor next to her. In the white smoke that rises, she sees a large figure, flanked by a man and a small child, stumble into town. The figure in the middle is holding a cup, ornate white and gold standing out against the dark red the figure is cloaked in.

 

The scene changes, and she sees a wagon. The driver, wearing the same red as the previous figure, collapses in the street after he climbs down from the wagon tongue. Then, darkness falls, and she watches as Ren gives the wagon-driver the cup and he drives off into the desert.

 

As the smoke clears, Paloma is confused. The first figure in red is the Visitor, bringing Jack and June to town. Everyone knows about how Jack and his daughter showed up in town from the desert, the Visitor and his magical Chalice in tow, and how Jack became the new town elder. However, her prophecies almost never show her things that have already happened. Not unless-

 

The second figure, the driver, must be another Visitor; after all, the Prophecy shows them wearing the same red cloak. But why would he come here? Why would Ren give him the Chalice? 

 

Paloma is almost excited to see how her prophecy plays out. Whenever these Red-Cloaked figures appear, something interesting always happens.

 

=

 

Taako’s Mental Shitlist currently reads as follows:

 

Waking up in the middle of the night (because it’s disorienting).

Falling asleep again without  _ remembering _ falling asleep (because it’s  _ very  _ disorienting).

Deserts, and canyons (boring).

Mud (especially when you’re trying to drive a wagon).

_ Brain fog  _ (this is number one on his list currently).

Heat (gross).

Not getting enough sleep (see next point).

Nightmares (because they cause the previous point).

 

Some small part of him knows he’s being a negative nancy, but that rational part of his brain is also on his Shitlist. Because, dammit, he just  _ really wants to _ indulge in self-pity. Not wallow in it; if he ever wants to make it to Safe Haven, or whatever it’s called, in a reasonable amount of time, he  _ can’t _ wallow. But slinging strings of curses when the wagon  _ once again _ gets stuck? Gritting his teeth and kicking rocks in his path? It’s childish, sure, and that rational part of his brain is giving him shit for it, but it makes him feel  _ marginally _ better. It’s vindicating. Those people who say stewing in your negative feelings is bad are missing out.

 

Finally, the canyon walls open up into a clearing. Taako doesn’t bother to take in the scenery because there, almost on the horizon, is a  _ town.  _ His refuge;  _ civilization _ . Feeling a second wind overtake him and blow away most of his negativity, he jumps back unto the tongue of the wagon and slaps the reigns, urging Rita to trot the last few miles.

 

=

 

Ren is on the porch of the Davey Lamp, sweeping one more time before she rings the dinner bell. She knows the effort's mostly pointless, since the wind is always blowing more dust, and her partons always tract in dirt, but having a relatively-clean space feels right. Presentation is everything, after all.

 

She's pleasantly surprised to see little Paloma coming up the street and onto the porch to stand beside her. “Hello Paloma, you look real nice! What brings you into town?”

 

“It is big day,” Paloma smiles up at her, “Big prophecy, wanted to come see.”

 

“Oh, that's… nice,” Ren smiles back nervously. Usually, Paloma's ‘big prophecies’ mean trouble is brewing, “How do you know it's gonna, uh, come true today?”

 

“When you've see prophecies for many years like me, you know. Just gut feeling,” Paloma explains, “I go sit down now, want to get good seat.”

 

Ren nods, wringing her hands around the broom's handle.

 

A few minutes pass, and Ren pulls out her wand to tap it against the triangle hanging from the rafter. It was enchanted years ago by a travelling bard to carry much further than a normal triangle; it reaches the whole town, Paloma's hut, even all the way to the quarry, though that's long since been abandoned. Everyone in town knows the bell, and looks forward to the signal to take a break.

 

As if on cue, Brogden comes out of the bank and locks the door. She sees Jack, holding June's hand, walking down from the mansion. Even Deputy Isaak seems to be stopping in today.

 

In usual Paloma fashion, she doesn't tell anyone else coming into the Lamp what she's told Ren. That can only mean the prophecy is about  _ her,  _ in some way, which twists her gut up into a pretty bow. She tries her best to hide the jitters, not wanting to send the saloon into a panic. However, Cassidy takes one look at her while she’s pouring her glass of water and shakes her head, “You look like ya seen a damn gerblin, Ren. What’s eatin’ you up?”

 

“It’s, uh, nothing really, Cassidy. Except,” Ren looks out the window, where Paloma is sitting on the porch, “You know…”

 

“Oh, shoot,” Cassidy lets out a low whistle, “Well, best of luck to ya!”

 

“Thank you,” Ren smiles at her warmly, “You want your usual?”

 

“Might as well,” Cassidy shrugs.

 

Ren jots down the order in her book, and heads back to the kitchen to refill her pitchers, when she hears Paloma call out that “it is time.” After checking her apron pocket for her wand, she calmly walks out the saloon door to look down the street, the same direction Paloma is.

 

It’s hard to make out at first, with the dust and the sun and all, but there’s a wagon driving up from out of the desert. From the silhouette, she guesses that it’s a Travelling Venue wagon.  She looks at Paloma and raises a brow, “I mean, I guess it’s kinda excitin’ to have someone visit the town, but  _ this  _ is what you saw?”

 

“Just wait, gets more interesting,” Paloma beams.

 

Ren steps off the porch and onto the street. The driver, a young elf in… strange clothes with a long braid thrown over one shoulder, pulls on the reigns, bringing the wagon to a halt. They (the driver, that is) turns to look at her from under the brim of his ridiculous hat.

 

“Hail and well met, stranger!” Ren waves, using her well-practiced customer voice, “Welcome to the Davey Lamp, and Refuge. You can pull your wagon up out back and come in for a spell.”

 

The driver looks at her, seemingly lost, “Hi, I’m… Taako? You look like- you remind me of- I can’t-”

 

They’re face clouds over in confusion, they eyes glaze over, and they collapse off of the wagon tongue and fall onto the street, unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the longish wait between this chapter and the last, hopefully it was worth it!

Taako is slowly driving down the main street of Refuge, lost in thought. The town seems nice enough, but at this point, he’ll take what he can get. While he’s daydreaming, a young elven woman steps out into the street and says, Ha̶i̶l ҉and well met, stranger! Wel͞com̨e to͘ th͏e Dav̴ey ̶Lamp,͡ ̢a̶nd͘ Refuge…”

 

He turns to look at her, but h̶͜e̕͡r̴͟ face is now obscured by the fog he’s been seeing over his memories. She looks so much like  _ h̶͜e̕͡r̴͟,  _ he thinks, even though he has no idea w̷h͢͡o͝ o̧҉r̕͘ ̧w̷̡ha̡͏t he’s trying to think about. The holes are getting bigger, he realizes in a panic; ho͞w much̡ l͢o͟n̴g̨er ̸until t͜h̨ere’̢s noth͘in͝g l̕e͘f͢t?

 

“Hi, I’m… Taako?” he says, trying to use his memory game he played with himself on the way here. He’s not even sure he’s even saying anything out loud, “You look like h̶͜e̕͡r̴͟. You remind me of h̶͜e̕͡r̴͟. I can’t remember h̶͜e̕͡r̴͟.”

 

His vision blurs and dances around the edges. His mind is rolling with this moving, tingling cloud of incomprehension. All he can even  _ begin _ to think about is t̨he͞ p̷i̷n͝s̸ an͝d͜ ̛n̢e͞e̛d̴le̛s ͜s͝eņs̵a͜tiǫn ̧f̨il̷ling̵ ̴ḩis ̨ea̸rs a͡nd ͞p͝our̕ing҉ o̢ut in̢ con͏f̵u͟se͜d ͠t҉e̷ars and̢ dominatiņg e̕v̧ery ͞thou̡gh̡t. It  _ hurts _ ; thinking  _ hurts _ .  _ Thinking should never hurt _ ! W̨͟͞h̕͟͠at t̶h̶e͡ ̡̢f̢uc̷k ̢҉h̡͘ap̨p̸̶͏ę̴n͝͝e̶̢͜d̵̕ ̶̨t̡͟o̴ ̴̴h̸̨͝i͠͏m̶?҉̛

 

The world around him goes black, and for a brief, terrifying moment, he’s afraid he’s become the static.

 

Then, suddenly, light breaks through the sea of shadows.

 

=

 

Taako wakes up on the floor of a temple, with a cleric hovering a hand over his forehead. 

 

(Which, by the way, ‘waking up to someone over you’ is now on his Shitlist, because that’s getting really old really fast.) 

 

He knows he’s in a temple because 1) cleric-dude is  _ totally _ dressed like a priest and 2) the ceiling looks strikingly similar to the ceiling of Oghma's temple, where he spend a winter when he was growing up. Not identical, because this ceiling has paintings of looms and weaving than Oghma’s didn't, but close enough.

 

“Oh, wonderful, you’re awake,” the cleric smiles at him with a look full of pity and worry, a look he still hates to this day, “Do you need help sitting up? You had quite a fall back there.”

 

“I got this, my dude, don’t worry,” Taako assures him, sitting up and only getting  _ slightly _ dizzy,  _ thank you very much.  _ “What even happened?”

 

“We were kinda hoping  _ you _ could tell us that,” says another person in the room. When he looks over to see who it is, he realizes it’s the elven lady from before. Great, she was probably worried about him too, or whatever. Just what he needs right now. 

 

“You know, it was probably just, uhhh,” Taako thinks for a minute, in part to come up with a good excuse, and also because he’s trying to remember what exactly even happened. “Lack of water? You know how it goes.”

 

“Dehydration? That's a real pain, especially out here,” she agrees, and he's relieved she doesn't push him further. Until, “I'm Ren, and this is Luca, the cleric 'round here. And you’re… Taako, if I remember right?”

 

“Yup, that’s cha’boy here,” Taako grins, “Taako, from TV.”

 

“TeeVee?” Ren asks.

 

“Yeah, you know,” Taako gestures with his hands, “TV?

 

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it,” Ren admits with a skepitcal frown.

 

“Must be in another country,” Luca, cleric-dude, dismisses, “Anyway, uhm, Taako: do you mind answering a few questions for us?”

 

“Sure, I can try,” Taako swings his feet nervously, “But, I'm gonna be honest, it's, uh, pretty spotty.”

 

“It’s alright, that's to be expected,” Luca assures him, “I’ll start with an easy one...Since we know your first name: do you have a last name, Taako?”

 

“Nope, just Taako, like Madonna,” he shrugs.

 

“Madonna, huh?” Luca chuckles breathily, “I've never heard of them, and I'm certain I would remember a name like that.”

 

“Huh, weird,” Taako muses, chest tightening with uneasiness, “She's a big deal where I'm from.”

 

“In TeeVee?”

 

Taako nods.

 

“When was the last time you went back to TeeVee?”

 

The static starting clinging to the edges of his memories again, “Oh, never. I’ve been travelling… around... here my whole life.”

 

“You’ve been travelling in Faerun, that is?” Luca asks for confirmation.

 

“Yeah, isn’t that where we are?” Taako asks back, latching onto this tidbit because it’s one of the few familiar things hes heard in days.

 

“Yes, that’s correct, very good,” Luca smiles, “Do you remember which town you’re in?”

 

“Uhm…” Taako’s head hurts.  _ Why is thinking so hard? Is it because of the fall? _ “Sanctuary? Safe Haven? Something like that. Can I have some water? I'm thirsty.”

 

“Of course, we’ve some ginger water right here for you,” Ren holds up a jug for Taako to take. “The ginger helps keep you from getting sick from drinking too fast.”

 

“Grampa Tostada used to make it on the farm,” Taako says casually as he takes the jug. He takes a long, slow drink of water, thankful for the cool feeling easing the dryness in his mouth and throat, and pooling in his stomach. It helps to loosen the anxious knot resting there.

 

“Really now? That's real neat. Most folks don't know about it and make themselves sick drinking cold water.”

 

“How do you feel now, Taako?” Luca asks.

 

“Better, thanks,” Taako sets the jug aside and gives the cleric a big thumbs up.

 

“Good, good,” Luca nodded, “Because we must discuss the matter of where you'll be staying tonight…”

 

“In my wagon, of course,” Taako says, “Seems like a no-brainer to this no-brains over here.”

 

“No, that simply won't do. You can't be in the elements like that in your condition.”

 

“It's a closed wagon, my dude. And why not? I've slept in there for weeks! Maybe even months? I don't remember…”

 

“And that is exactly why you shouldn't,” Luca explains, “You barely know where you are, or  _ who  _ you are. It would be irresponsible to leave you out there like that.”

 

“Oh, so you think I'm too stupid to be unsupervised?” Taako demands, standing up quickly and curling his hands into fists by his sides.

 

Before the situation can escalate, Ren steps between the two, “Now, I'm don't quite think you're a moron, Taako, so you gotta know your fall was pretty nasty. Aside from that, you're probably still dehydrated. And, uh- look. It just wouldn't sit right with the folks here if you slept in the wagon, okay? I'm sure it's mighty nice, but that just ain't how we let folks be ‘round here. We take care of our visitors, ya know?”

 

Taako looks at her, and his anger ebbs away. “Yeah, okay, when you say it like that, I get it. I guess I can go check in at the inn.”

 

“Oh, see, that's an issue,” Ren frowned nervously, “We ain't got one. Closed down right after the mines did.”

 

“Yeah, that tracks,” Taako nods, “Sounds like a lil bit of a ghost town sitch, I get it. But where else could I stay?”

 

“You're welcome to stay in the Temple for the time being,” Lucas offers.

 

“Or, you know, I got a spare room at the Davey Lamp,” Ren offers when she sees how Taako scowls at Luca’s offer. “Plus, if you stay for a spell, I could always use an extra set of hands.”

 

“Sounds like a deal, Brosky,” Taako grins, “I'm used to working for room n board anyway.”

 

“Sounds like a deal then, Taako,” Ren grins, sticking her hand out.

 

Taako shakes the offered hand, feeling at ease now that he's got a bed secured for a while. Maybe he can stay long enough to figure out why his head is fogged over.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: small towns can be wonderful, but they can also be suspicious of Outsiders, or people who aren't quite like 'em, and Taako is both. Nothing terrible happens to him, but yeah.

It’s twilight, almost night time, when Ren finally makes it back to the Davey Lamp with Taako. After everything that had happened, Luca wanted to carefully examine Taako before he cleared him for release (under Ren’s supervision, and with a promise that they would come back if Taako still seemed dehydrated). Now, with the streets lit by lamplight, and the stars clearly visible, Ren’s finally back. The only patron left at the Davey Lamp is Paloma, who is still sitting on the porch. Ren thinks she may be asleep, but she turns to them and smiles warmly.

 

“Hey Paloma, guess everyone cleared out after they finished dinner?” Ren states more than asks. Anyone can see or hear clear as day that the dining hall and bar are empty.

 

“Yes, all went back to business,” Paloma nods, “Left money on tables for bills, said to keep change.”

 

“That’s real sweet of them,” Ren smiles fondly, “Sadly, it won’t clean the dishes before dinner tomorrow. Looks like I’ll be up a while.”

 

“I’ll help,” Taako says meekly, speaking for the first time since leaving the temple.

 

“You sure you’re up to it?” Ren asks, concerned, “You still look kinda shaken.”

 

“I’m good, my dude. It’s the least I can do, since you’re giving me a place to crash and all,” Taako assures her.  _ Rule number whatever of a roadie: always pay your debts as soon as you can, especially to those feeding and housing you. _

 

“Well, I certainly appreciate it,” Ren says, “Just lemme know if it’s too much for ya.”

 

“Won’t even be a problem,” then, Taako’s ears lay back against his head, “Shit, I forgot about Rita!”

 

Paloma chuckles, and Ren glares at her warningly. “Who’s Rita?”

 

“My donkey,” Taako smacks his forehead, turning to go back into the street, “I gotta go put her up for the night. Can you point me to the stable?”

 

“Do not worry,” Paloma beams, “Had Jack and June look after. Should be back any moment.”

 

As if on cue, a tall, broad man steps onto the porch, sun-weathered face illuminated by the lantern hanging from the rafter. Holding his hand is a little girl, probably no more than ten by Taako’s generous estimations (humans are basically infants until they’re ten, right?), her long, dark hair pulled into two neat braids. She looks up at Taako wide-eyed, and steps behind the man a little, “Papa, is this the stranger?”

 

“Sure seems like it, Junebug,” he smiles down at her before looking at Taako with a slight squint, “You Tay-co?”

 

“Taako, yeah, that’s me,” he holds out his hand nervously, “Sorry about, uhhh passing out? I’ll try not to let it happen again. But thanks a million for getting Rita situated, means a lot.”

 

“I’m Jack,” the man takes Taako’s hand and gives it a firm shake, “I’m the- well, I guess I’m the mayor of Refuge, but they call me the Town Elder. I make sure things ‘round here are running smooth, and that there ain’t no trouble.”

 

“I can get behind that,” Taako grins, big and forces, subtly moving towards Ren. So far, she and the little Bjork woman have been the most trusting of him, “And I promise I’m not here to start anything. I-I don’t know a lot right now, but I’m positive on that front.”

 

“Good, good,” Jack nods, smirking a little. His eyes seem warm and inviting, so maybe he’s not so bad? Maybe he’s just gruff. He can deal with gruff, he’s lived with gruff people before. He can’t remember who, at the moment, but he knows he has.

 

The little girl (Junebug?) peeks out from behind her dad’s (he assumes? Why else would he have this kid?) leg to say, “Your donkey’s real nice.”

 

“Thanks. She’s not much of a talker, but I try not to hold it against her,” Taako waves dismissively.

 

Junebug giggles, and takes Jack’s hand again. “You’re funny.”

 

“I’ll be here all week,” Taako says with a mock salute, before backing towards the doorway, “I’m gonna go get started on those dishes, okay Ren?”

 

“Oh, sugarbeets, totally forgot,” Ren sighs, “It’s been real lovely seein’ you two, but yeah, we got some chores to do.”

 

“I understand, I think it’s almost someone’s bedtime,” Jack looks down at Junebug again, who is leaning against his leg a little, eyes drooping, “You need a ride home, Paloma?”

 

“Would very much appreciate, yes,” Paloma nods, and uses the hand offered to her to step down off the porch safely. She turns one more time to look at Ren, and says with a wry smile, “Tell Taako come to by cottage! Or I come to see him in town soon!”

 

Jack and June say their somewhat sleepy goodbyes, and Ren blows out the lanterns outside with a quick magical gust of wind before stepping inside. She locks the door, turns around, and is briefly horrified to see the near-stranger she’s letting stay with her with two fistfulls of coins.

 

He freezes as soon as she makes eye contact, and looks down at his hands. “Shit, this looks pretty fucking bad. Like, wow, what the  _ hell _ was I thinking?”

 

He puts all the coins back on the table and wipes his hands off on his shirt. “I understand if you won’t believe me, cause I get this, this looks shady as shit. But the money’s in the breadbasket here. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t of been touching it, it’s not mine. I’ll… I’ll gather the dishes instead.”

 

She watches in astonishment at Taako moves to a completely different side of the bar and starts emptying drink glasses into each other, picking up silverware and absently putting it in the now-empty cups. “Uhm… I… could you empty your pockets?”

 

Taako shrugs, and roots around in his pocket. He flicks grit out of them, pulls out a few pieces of lint, and leaves them turned inside out. He takes off his hat and pulls out a few strands of hair. “You can kick me out, if you want, I can still sleep in the wagon. Or I can skip on outta town completely, it’s no skin off my nose either way.”

 

She’s struck by how… sincere, he seems? And also nonchalant? Like this isn’t the first time he’s been accused of stealing. “No, we ain’t doing none of that.”

 

“Are you sure?” Taako looks up at her, genuinely confused, “Cause I can totally-”

 

“What did I tell you back at the temple?” Ren gives him a stern look, “We don’t do people like that in Refuge, especially good people. And you’re good people, Taako. And… it was wrong of me to assume you were stealing from me. I’m sorry bout that.”

 

Taako looks at her warily for a moment, then goes back to stacking dishes, pointedly avoiding touching any money, like he’ll break out in hives, “No biggie, like I said, I get it.”

 

He doesn’t seem hurt, or relieved by her apology. He’s blissfully neutral, which makes her feel even worse than if he had been mad. He’s clearly been through enough today alone, and she’s gone and added insult to those injuries. It also makes her wonder what kinda life he’s lived where he takes an accusation against his character, his  _ integrity, _ like it wasn’t nothing major. He said he travelled a lot, but how? She was beginning to suspect it wasn’t because of a wealthy family.

 

They gather everything from the tables in near silence, and he follows her into the kitchen with a large stack of plates and bowls. She shows him the sink, and without her even asking, he starts washing them. Which is kinda nice, she guesses, but he’s still got that almost-forced casualness that’s making her skin crawl. “You really don't gotta do this.”

 

“‘Course I do, you're letting me stay here,” Taako shrugs, hands deep in soapy dishwater.

 

Ren pulls out her wand (it's more of a rod, really, but the semantics don't matter to her much) and waves it vaguely at the dishes. Instantly, they're cleaned with Presidigiation, and she dusts her hands off. “There. Not a big deal. Let's go to bed.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Taako says, and he sounds disappointed? She can't make heads or tails of his deal, but she reckons it has to do with his memory stuff.

 

Ren turns out the last of the lights in the kitchen and back hallway as she climbs the narrow staircase. Taako follows close behind her. They both have nightvision, as elves, so seeing to get up the unlit stairwell isn’t a big issue. When they make it up, Ren gestures to the door closest to them. “This is the guest room. Bathroom’s down stairs, in that hall we were just in.”

 

“Cool, cool,” Taako says absently, “I guess that’s, uh, goodnight, then?”

 

“Yeah, I’m turning in,” Ren confirms, “I get up pretty early to get a start on my day, but come down for breakfast whenever. Try to get some sleep, ‘kay?”

 

But Taako has already gone into the bedroom and closed the door.  _ Fair, _ she thinks,  _ he’s probably tuckered out. Still, is was kinda abrupt. _

 

=

 

Taako sits up, and he’s in the temple again, which is positively  _ glowing  _ with a nearly-blinding white light. He looks around, and sees Luca slumped over in one of the pews. “Ah, shit, I’m having a nightmare about cleric man.”

 

_ “Who’s there?”   _ asks a voice, feminine and distant.

 

“Uhm, Taako?” he drawls, looking around. Then, he spots Her.

 

She’s huge, taking up the entire dias that would normally houses the altar and the pulpit. However,, those items must have been moved to make room for Her. She’s working on a loom, as big as Herself, weaving this giant tapestry that’s spilling off the dias, onto the temple floor. Even from where he’s standing, a good twenty feet away, he can tell how intricately and meticulously woven it is. Oddly, he can’t seem to find where it ends.

 

_ “Taako,” _ She seems to think it over for a minute,  _ “Oh, Taako, My Little Red Bird who’s flown into Refuge! I’m so happy you’re here with Me!” _

 

“Excuse me?” he asks, stepping closer. He’s drawn to be near Her; Her aura is warm and inviting. He feels… wanted. Needed.  _ Loved. _

 

_ “This must be so confusing for you, my Little Red Bird,”  _ She continues,  _ “But I promise everything is going to be fine. All this grief, and heartache, all of your your pain: I promise you that I will make it better. You’re safe here now, Taako.” _

 

Then, he blinks, and he’s in the guest room above the Davey Lamp again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako makes breakfast. Ren digs a little deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO THIS FIC ISN'T DEAD i'm just horrible at procrastinating and getting 1 million ideas for other fics when I work on anything multi-chaptered lmao. anyway! enjoy!

Taako doesn't need to try hard to remember his dream. When he closes his eyes, he sees everything projected on the darkness. The Temple, Lucas, the Giant Woman glowing too brightly to properly see. Her gracefulness and serenity washes over him in waves, like the ripples of a pond. It unnerves him. He's never felt calm around _anyone_ , n͟ot͜ ̨s̨inc̡e _şh̢̢e̶͜͜͠_ ̸we͞nt mi̶ssi̴n̷g͜ ͏and͞ ͢t͝he͠ sci͟ȩn̨t͘i͞s̡t̸ and he ͢s̕p̕ȩnt ͏a ̧year̴ ҉of̛ slee͢pl͢e͘şs̡ ̨n̸i̡g͡h͏ts͟ tryi͟n͠g ͜to ҉t͘rack h͘er.̢

 

He can't fall back asleep, despite his best efforts. Meditation is hopeless, too; his thoughts are buzzing around in his head too loudly and too quickly to stop. The instant he grabs hold of one, trying to calm it to a gentle hum, a thousand more swarm him, vying for his attention. The Giant Woman. The desert. Rita. Luca. Ren. H͟is͞ ca͡ptaiņ.̢ T͟h͢e̕ir҉ body̡guard.͜ T̢he̴ sc̡ient̸ist̛.̷ Th͢e chr̕onįcl͜e͝r.̵. The mystery woman. _H͟is̶̨ ͢s̶̸i͏s̕͡t͡e̡̨r._

 

Frustrated (and scared), Taako kicks off his blankets with a huff and stands up. Right now, his brain has leaped to the top of his Shitlist. He's terrified of his own thoughts, thoughts that he apparently has no control over. If he can't even understand his thoughts beyond a wall of static, how can he stop having them? How can he even  _ have _ thoughts if he doesn't think them? He starts getting dress, whispering each action to himself, forcing his brain to think something that isn't immediately censored.

 

"I'm unbuttoning my nightshirt. It has eleven-twelve-  _ thirteen  _ buttons. Some of them were already undone, because I like having my legs free, ya know?"

 

He laughs breathily, nervously, "Gods, I sound like a nutcase. Have I always been like this? Probably. Whatever the hell is wrong with my memory, I've probably had it forever. It's a pre-existing condition, I bet. I've just learned to live with it, by playing games like this. My name is Taako, and I have short-term memory… why does that sound familiar?"

 

He continued to undress, redress, and tiptoe down the stairs this way, only stopping when he passed Ren's door.  

 

He finds himself in the kitchen and looks around, bewildered. Unsurprisingly, it's spacious, since this is a tavern. However, it's also quite homey and inviting. Ren must spend a lot of time in here; why else would there be cutesy, sassy plaques on the wall. Rejoiners like "Sarcasm served daily" and "leave your attitude at the door" litter the walls. Was the dining room like this, too? If it was, he honestly didn't notice. He finds them endearing, though, and snorts at a couple of especially amusing ones.

 

Now that he's done scanning the room, he feels a little… lost. He can't put together the exact thought process of what lead him down here. Was he going to make something to drink, or to eat? That's definitely possible. However, he could have just as easily decided to walk around to clear his head. The bedroom where he had been sleeping did feel a little stuffy; maybe he came down to cool off. Whatever his reason, he's down here now, so he might as well have some water.

 

He grabs a glass, fills it up, and takes a slow, long drink. Then, his mind falls back to thinking about the dream. Did the Giant Woman symbolize that mystery woman from a few days ago? That would make  _ some  _ sense; he had felt quite at ease when she was explaining everything to him. But she didn't look like Her, capitalized. Then again, he wasn't quite sure what she or She had looked like, anyway. One was fuzzy from the effects of the Storm, the other from Her glowing form.

 

His head swims with her and Her, proper nouns and pronouns and adjectives. His vision starts to black out around the edges, so he grounds himself again. "My name is Taako. I am a traveling chef. I'm in the kitchen of Ren, and elven woman who seems quite nice. I came downstairs after a dream to make breakfast."

 

Breakfast. Right, pancakes; almost the perfect breakfast food. They only have a few ingredients, but they're things that everyone has in their kitchen. And once you get the batter made, they take almost no time to cook. Anyone who can use a skillet can make them. Well, almost everyone. He remembers the s̨c̶ie̡n͟ti͏s͝ţ tr̷ying to m͞ak҉e s̛ǫme ͞on̸ce̕,̡ ̨to su͜rp҉rise h͠er ̶w̶i̢t͟h̛ brea̵k͜f͢ast͡. He ma͏n͘ag͘ed ͘to͟ burn t̡hęm ̸w̛h̵ile ̕s̸o͝meh̶o͡w leav̕ing͠ t̡h͠e m͘iddl͟e r̢a̴w͏.͠ It͢ wa͠s t͝ru̢ly̷ rema͝rkable͜.

 

He whisks together his dry ingredients, then slowly folds in the liquids. As the batter thickens on his fork, he loses himself in thought. The Temple, the Giant Woman. Luca.  _ The Giant Woman.  _ Why does his mind keep wandering back to Her? He's never seen anyone like Her before, yet he feels like he's known Her all his life. He couldn't even see Her clearly through Her radiance, but from what he could make out, he thought She looked  _ right, _ somehow. She was kind, comforting, mysterious, unhelpful. A beautiful paradox he couldn't wrap his head around; Someone not to be ignored. 

 

Was She just the mystery woman who helped him after the Storm? Was it just his subconscious pulling information from his broken memories of the past several days?

 

He finishes mixing, satisfied with the consistency. Without thinking, he slides the bowl a little ways down the counter, ȩa҉ger f̕or͞ h͘e̛r t̛o͞ tas̷t҉e ̨i̶t͠ a҉nd͝ ͜t҉e̕ll҉ h̡im it'̧s shi̡t,͜ w͏hile͞ ̨taki͢n͢g ͘anot̵her͢ sp̵oonf̕ul ̛t͞o ͢l͟ic̛k̨.͝ Oh, right. He's alone, in the dark, in someone else's kitchen, because it's the middle of the night and he can't sleep. Why would he think someone would be there next to him now, of all times? No one's ever been there before, why would someone be here with him in the dead of the night? He's so angry with himself for being so stupid, he considers dumping this entire batch of pancake batter and going back to bed to meditate. He stops himself, however, because he remembers that Ren, his landlord, basically, is going to wake up soon, and might like some breakfast. So he turns on the hotplate, finds a skillet hanging up above the sink, and starts planning what else he can make while he's not sleeping.

 

=

 

“What in the holy name of Istus are you doing in my kitchen?” Ren asks when she comes downstairs to find Taako, this near-perfect stranger, standing at the stove and poking at a skillet with a spatula. Her spatula, her skillet, in  _ her _ kitchen.

 

“Making breakfast,” Taako says nonchalantly as he puts a helping of fluffy eggs onto a plate that's already loaded with pancakes and sausage. "I dunno how you like your eggs, so I went with scrambled. I hope that's okay."

 

“It’s barely daylight out,” she says in place of a real answer.

 

“You said you liked to get an early start,” he shrugs.

 

“I was kinda expecting you to sleep in a little,” she admits, taking her plate, “ ‘specially after the day you had yesterday.”

 

“Oh, that was nothing. I’m basically over it already. Drank a ton of water before bed," he waves a hand at her dismissively, "Besides, I couldn't sleep, and cooking is basically my meditation.

 

Ren turns a critical eye to him as he sits across from her. He doesn't look tired, yet, but she's not pleased to hear he skipped resting. Not that it's any of her concern, but she's a mother hen by nature. For now, she'll let it go. “Well, that’s good I suppose.” 

 

She takes a careful bite of the steaming food. Her eyes widen in surprise; these may be the best pancakes she’s ever had, period. She takes another bite, confirming the first wasn’t a fluke. “Hot damn, Taako, you can  _ cook!?” _

 

“Yeah, well, I'm a traveling chef, I think, so that's good," he says, "Glad I'm not serving people shitty food."

 

She stops eating and studies his face. He seems pained, “What do you mean, you _ ‘think _ ’?”

 

“Like I said yesterday, I don’t remember a thing, my dude,” he says “I'm just guessing everything based on context clues. Like, I could really be named, fuckin', Barry or some shit, and I wouldn't have a clue. I only know I'm Taako because that's what the wagon says."

 

She’s beginning to unravel the tangled web of a man sitting across from her. He’s a confident, easy-going guy most of the time. At least, that’s what he wants everyone to see. But there’s a fear under there, behind the causal facade. He's scared.  _ Of course  _ he's scared. It’s only by the grace of Istus that he stumbled into their sleepy town. What if he had stopped in one of the big towns, like Neverwinter??

 

Ren, never one for dwelling on what-ifs, hums at his statement. “That's terrible, Taako, I'm so sorry.”

 

"It's okay, I'm probably used to it. My theory so far is that I've always been like this. Pretty impressive for a guy with half a brain, huh?"

 

"Oh, don't go beating yourself up like that," Ren says, "It ain't your fault you have memory issues. Ain't nobody's fault at all."

 

Taako studies her, like he doesn't know how to take the gentle reassurance. "I promise I'll try not to be a burden. I'll earn my keep however I can."

 

"Oh, I know you will," Ren smiles, "But I didn't let you stay here just so I could get some free labor, you know."

 

"Then why did you?"

 

The question takes her by surprise. At first, she's offended that he would question her motives. Didn't he just talk about not biting the hand that feeds you last night? Then, she sees the look of confusion on his face. The pain in his eyes. He thinks he has to be useful for anyone to give a damn about him. She feels an ember of anger kindle inside of her; pain, loss, and abandonment all fuelling the fire in her heart. He's hurt, a broken mirror of things she's tried not to think about. Memories she doesn't want to consume her. 

 

She stamps the flame out with her love of Refuge, for the people who have loved her all these years. "Because it's the right thing to do, Taako."

 

He looks down and continues to eat silently, clearly not wanting to push the issue. She doesn't like to push, either, because that's the best way to scare someone off. So she finishes her meal quietly, savoring each delicious note of her food.

 

She stands up and offers to take his plate, but he refuses, standing up with it. "Nah homie, I got this. I made the mess, I'll clean it up."

 

"Are you sure?" Ren asks, "I'm happy to help you, it'll go a lot faster."

 

"Fine," he relents, "But I'm washing. Deal?"

 

=

 

How can washing dishes with someone feel right? How can washing dishes with someone feel  _ wrong? _

 

Taako ponders this as he sits in the back corner of the Davey Lamp, idly flipping through a cookbook he grabbed out of his wagon out of boredom. He had already checked on Rita; she had plenty of feed and water. Tomorrow, he would try to find somewhere good for her to graze in this canyon, but right now it's just to… sticky. He feels gross. Sweaty. Vaguely nauseous. His head hurts. He takes another sip of water.

 

He feels so comfortable around Ren, and it terrifies him. He's never been close with anyone, except for maybe Tia Tilla, but it's been decades since he lived there. He feels like it's been decades since he's really lived  _ anywhere,  _ actually _.  _ He's been wandering for so long, he's almost forgotten what it's like to be stable.

 

But Ren _makes_ him want to settle down. She's so easy to be around, to be both serious and silly with. He's hardly known her a full day, and yet he feels like they've always known each other. _Do_ they know each other? No, that's stupid; Ren would have said so by now, because Ren is good like that.

 

_ How does he know that? _

He realizes that he knows very little about Ren. He should be ashamed of himself for feeling so willing to trust her, and some part of him certainly  _ is  _ horrified. But he  _ wants  _ to trust her. He wants to get to know her. Because right now, all he knows is that she's an elf, she has a saloon in a desert town, and that she was nice enough to let him stay with her. And that she likes his cooking. 

 

Ren comes over for the fourth time (or maybe fifth time? He's lost count) to refill his glass, followed by another woman. "Taako, this is Noelle, my- well, she's, uh…"

 

"I'm her girlfriend," she supplies, sticking out a large hand with a toothy grin, "Noelle Redcheeks, girlfriend of Ren Lightfoot."

 

"Taako, single, but very much into dudes," he shakes her hand, making note of her imposing frame. She could snap him in half like a toothpick if he hurt Ren, he finds himself thinking.

 

"I asked Noelle to take you around town, since she doesn't have to be back on the farm yet and I need to stay here," Ren says, "If that okay with you, Taako? I understand if you're not ready to explore quite yet."

 

"Nah, I'm good, a Tour de Refuge sounds baller," Taako stands up and closes his book a little too forcefully, "No offense, but I was kinda spacing out anyway. Getting up and stretching sounds good. Are you ready, Noelle?"

 

"Whenever you are," Noelle shrugs casually, sticking her hands in her pocket. "Any excuse to get off the farm for a bit is good for me, especially when Ren's involved."

 

Ren flushed slightly, her ears dipping down, "Well, um, you two be safe, okay? Take it easy out there with Taako."

 

"Babe, you sure worry a lot 'bout people," Noelle says, "We'll be peachy-keen, I promise."

 

Ren stands on her tip-toes to peck Noelle on the cheek, "You're right, but it's only because I love you, you know?"

 

Taako and Noelle leave the bar before more sappy exchanges can be had. The sun beats down on the unshades, sandy main road that runs the entire length of the town. As they walk, Noelle points to each building, explaining what their function is (though most have huge signs that say things like BANK and SALOON), but Taako is only half-listening, replaying what Ren told Noelle.

 

"It's only because I love you," she had said when her girlfriend accused her of worrying too much. And she seems to fret over  _ his  _ well-being. Does that mean she loves  _ him _ ?

 

No, that can't be why. She's only known him for a day, after all. She probably just feels sorry for him, or like he's a burden that fell into her lap, so now she has to deal with it herself.

 

Besides, who could ever love someone like him, anyway? 


End file.
